The Opposite of Addiction

When I was younger, I moved to LA for a short while, and to NYC as well. I also traveled frequently to Minnesota. I always loved to "get away." It was nothing for me to pick up and go, and it didn't seem I was close enough to anyone for it to impact me. After college the world travel and moving around continued into and all around DC. I found friends, but kept them at a distance.

(Me in Paris, where I enjoyed too much champagne.) 

In March of 2014, I found my way into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. I managed to string together my first 30 days of sobriety after a messy year of trying to escape myself. I'd come to the realization I had a problem - that once I started drinking, I couldn't stop or control my drinking. 

Around the 40 day mark, I was to go on a trip to Vegas with the start-up I was working for. I decided to start drinking again, already having made the decision I would drink on the trip. It was immediately clear to me, I wasn't drinking like "normal people" - I'd have two-three at dinner when others would casually sip one. I would drink alone, before almost any social gathering, and would black out frequently. Nonetheless, on April 5th, I rolled the dice again on the plane to Vegas, I decided to have a glass of wine. Then two. And then three. The next six days were a blur, and I spent much of it in a blackout. I "woke up" on Thursday, April 10th - I'd humiliated myself in front of my colleagues, slept through my work shift, and was completely panic stricken, filled with anxiety. I couldn't bring myself to leave the room I'd been sleeping in. Hysterical, I called home and begged for help. I knew I couldn't stop, but I was truly afraid of what would happen if I started drinking again... 

(Easter Sunday, April 20, 2014 in Nebraska; 10 days sober) 

By the Grace of God, my family put me on the next plane out of Vegas, to Lincoln Nebraska, where I would spend four days in detox, and the next 30 in an out-patient rehabilitation program. In those early days especially, there were many moments it was clear to me, Angels and "others" were looking out for me. For one, I saw pennies everywhere - symbolic, to me, of my grandmother who passed when I was 21, and baby cousin who'd passed when I was ten. For another, my boss's dad had 26 years sober at the time - I couldn't have had a more understanding supervisor. My sister and her family let me live with them, where I could spend precious time with my baby niece. And my uncle, who took his own life (also when I was ten) - who also struggled with depression, anxiety and alcoholism - visited me in a dream. 

After treatment, my boyfriend at the time, now my husband, moved to Nebraska to support me on my journey through recovery... Recurrently, this was an easy move for me. I put together 13 months without a drink. Then in May of 2015, shortly after my now husband proposed, the cunning, baffling and powerful disease affecting my brain {and body} took over one more time. I wouldn't find true sobriety again until the winter of 2015.

14 months clean and sober now, I've worked my 12 steps, am sponsoring others in Alcoholics Anonymous, I built my own Yoga business from the ground up, obtained a Mastery of Meditation, traveled to India to pursue my 500 hour Advanced Yoga Teacher Training -- and have never been tied to so many people. I've never had so many close, genuine relationships... According to Johann Hari, author of the New York Times best-selling book "Chasing The Scream: The First and Last Days of the War on Drugs," -- "The opposite of addiction is not sobriety. The opposite of addiction is connection."  

Realizing how far I've come, my husband and I have made the difficult decision to move back to the Northern VA, DC area to truly "settle down." This move is harder than ever, because I'm more connected than ever. It's bittersweet. But also a pivotal mark on my journey through recovery - I'm at the perceived opposite side of my addiction, and this is so worth celebrating. I'm ready to reclaim the life I once lost back in DC/traveling in 2014. I truly hope that all the loved ones I leave behind in Nebraska can see the good in this transitional time too. I will hold space for each of you, you know who you are, in my heart forever. A part of my spirit will remain with you, encouraging you on your own journeys to and through healing wherever you are.

Love and Light,
Yogi Brittney